Page 15 of Wicked Love
“Doctors already looked over Maddie’s dad’s symptoms and test results, and they couldn’t put the pieces together,” Beckett said mildly. “My friend has a lot of experience with toxins and the ways they can affect the body, especially those that can be used to create the appearance of a natural illness. If there’s any progress we can make from having a better idea what killed him, she’s the one who’ll get us there.”
“Assuming we can get his records without a hitch,” Logan grumbled.
Only with Beckett would my stepbrother downplay his own computer prowess for the sake of taking a dig at the other guy. I rolled my eyes at him even though he couldn’t see me where I sat behind him. “I’m surprised you hadn’t already grabbed his file when you hacked into the hospital system before.”
“I looked at it,” Logan admitted, “but it was obvious none of us in the Vigil could have made any sense of the data. We don’t have any medical training. And at the time I didn’t have the skills to rip the files right out of the network without setting off red flags in the system.”
“Well, this should be easy enough, grabbing them right from the source.” I rubbed my hands together, hoping my confidence wasn’t misguided. My heart was already beating a little faster at the thought of the deception I was going to be a part of.
Beckett drove past the hospital parking lot and pulled over to the curb a couple of blocks away. He wasn’t coming in with us because we didn’t want any of the security cameras catching us together. He’d picked us up away from campus too, in case we were being monitored there.
We didn’t want our common enemy realizing that their gambit to frame Beckett had failed and we were now combining our efforts.
He glanced back at me as he turned off the engine, and I gave him a nod I intended to be reassuring. I still wasn’t sure how to relate to him after the secrets he’d revealed. Keeping my mind on the mystery of Dad’s murder was easier than figuring out what would become of the relationship we’d been building.
I picked up the manila folder I’d brought as part of my cover story and got out of the car. Logan hopped out to join me, and we hurried back toward the hospital.
“I guess we’ll see if this friend of his is half as good as he claims,” Logan said under his breath.
I elbowed him. “You don’t have to be such an ass to him. He didn’t have to help us at all, especially after how you went after him. His connectionsarebetter than what we had access to on our own.”
“If he’s telling the truth about them,” Logan said, and frowned. “And don’t think I don’t realize why he’s really helping us.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He’s still after you.”
I shook my head. “You can’t be pissed off at him for supposedly using me for his own endsandfor really wanting to date me. It’s either one or the other. And you shouldn’t really be pissed off at him about the whole dating thing anyway. Last time I checked, that wasn’t a crime.”
My stepbrother settled for an inarticulate growl in response to that point, which was fine, because we’d reached the side entrance to the hospital.
As I reached for the door, Logan caught my hand. He pulled me to a halt and forced me to meet his eyes. “Be careful, okay?”
“All I’m doing is chatting up an old friend of my father’s,” I reminded him. “You’re the one doing the risky part.Yoube careful. Don’t bother with anything other than getting the record and getting out of there.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said in a lightly teasing voice, and bent down to give me a quick but sweet peck on the lips. We couldn’t afford to indulge in more than that.
This entrance was the closest to the research area of the hospital. We tramped up the stairs to the second floor, and then I went on ahead. Logan would be keeping watch to see when I’d cleared the way for him.
I walked along the row of offices, sharply aware of the door to the one that had used to be my dad’s as I passed it. The name on the plaque was different now, of course, but I’d visited him here enough times as a kid to remember.
Rebecca’s office was just a couple of doors down. She’d worked with Dad when he’d been alive and taken a few minutes out of her day to talk to me the last time I was here. I was counting on her being willing to pitch in on my behalf again. That way we’d know one office was definitely empty so Logan could get into the computer network from there—and I’d keep her busy until I was sure he’d retrieved the file we needed.
The knowledge of the deception left me queasy, but I ignored the sensation as I knocked on Rebecca’s door. She opened it a moment later, and a smile spread across her face as she looked at me over her glasses. “Madelyn! It’s lovely to see you again. Was there something I could help you with?”
She was so genuinely pleased that the smile I’d thought I’d need to force came naturally. “I’m in town to visit my mom, and I was really hoping you’d have some free time as well. I’d love to pick your brain about a research project I’ve been working on in school. I’m sorry I didn’t call ahead—I wasn’t sure how to contact you. I don’t suppose you have time today? Maybe we could chat on your lunch break?”
I’d purposefully shown up around noon to make that offer as easy to accept as possible. Rebecca paused for a second to consider and then nodded with another bright smile. “I think it should only take me another minute or two to wrap up what I was in the middle of, and then I was just about ready for a break anyway. If you don’t mind the cafeteria food, we can talk down there.”
I sighed in totally unfeigned relief. “That would be perfect. Thank you so much.”
In no time at all, we were walking over to the elevator to travel down to the cafeteria. “Tell me about this project,” Rebecca said as the car whirred downward.
I forced myself to focus on the project I really was working on for school, one her expertise could be of some use for, and not what Logan might be encountering upstairs while I kept her distracted. Or my guilt over causing that distraction.
“I’m looking at inherited diseases and how they can interact with contagious illnesses to exacerbate existing conditions,” I said. “Chronic health conditions are one of your main areas of research, right? I was hoping I could bounce some ideas off you about which interactions would give me the most material to investigate—where there’s the most data and that sort of thing.”
Rebecca’s eyes lit up with scholarly interest. She hummed to herself as we stepped off the elevator and headed into the cafeteria, where a rich savory smell told me that pasta with marinara sauce was the day’s special. “I can definitely point you in some good directions. That’s a fascinating subject! Complex, but I’m sure you’re up to the task. You’re your father’s daughter, all right.”
